


Happy Endings

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [12]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Libraries, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working in her university's library, Iris finds herself intrigued by a certain regular there: none other than the elusive, incredibly dorky (but equally adorable) Barry Allen. And she's determined to figure him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Endings

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: "librarian/avid reader au"
> 
> This is also an oldie and also a super-cheesy one, FORGIVE ME.

“Hey, Laurel. Big paper due soon?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, peeking at Iris from behind the tower of books piled high in her arms before dumping them on the desk before her. She ran tired hand through her hair and huffed. “This class is going to kill me. Actually, this whole pre-law thing is going to kill me. Legal research is  _hard_.”

“I have faith in you,” Iris supplied with an encouraging grin, gathering the books in her arms to put them on the cart behind her  with everything that needed to be returned to the shelves. “If anyone can get it done it’s you. And then before you know it you’re going to be kicking ass in court.”

Laurel smiled appreciatively at her. “Thanks, Iris,” she said before bidding her goodbye. As Iris watched her go, she knew without having to check the time that closing hours were drawing near.

She liked being a work-study at the library. As as an English major, it definitely looked good for her resume, and it left her plenty of time to do school work on the side when she was working the main desk. It wasn’t too demanding, and she got to be surrounded by books and the atmosphere she loved. Most of all though, she liked the people-watching.

She got to know people even if they didn’t know her, the ones who would be frantically flipping through books and printing things out an hour before class and weren’t ever in here for anything else, the ones who occasionally came and went in groups for projects and meetings, and then the regulars. The people who, like her, were in here all the time, poring over their notes and writing papers, doing research or just trying to get things done. She usually worked the late-shift, so she was acquainted with the late-night regulars, the ones who regularly worked themselves in to the A.M.

Laurel was a regular, always in the library with her stacks of books and writing some paper or another, or doing extensive research. She was one of the ones who smiled back when Iris smiled at her, who always stopped for small talk and who Iris had gotten to know pretty well through the snapshots of her life she’d been given through their conversations. Captain of the kick-boxing team, head of her sorority, and aspiring law student.

It made Iris’s head spin wondering how she possibly found the time to balance all of that, let alone have so much figured out about her future already. She wished she could say the same. It was, she conceded, probably the reason that Laurel was always in here so late, though. And now that Laurel had left, she knew it must be getting close to closing time, since she almost always stayed till the very end.

She scanned the area for other regulars, or any other poor soul who had obviously left an assignment off to the last minute and was struggling to get it done.

Mostly everyone had left already—even Felicity, the ever-studious computer science major. Linda, her fellow aspiring journalist and co-worker was still there, gave her a wave as she caught her eye. Iris waved back and pointed to her wrist, to the non-existent watch there, and Linda nodded in understanding, making her way over to Iris to help start closing up.

As Linda approached the front desk, Iris continued her search, until her eyes finally fell upon someone squished in the couch in the furthest corner of the library, almost like he didn’t wanted to be seen, like he was trying to melt right into it. Iris supposed that if he was, he was pretty successful about it, because she certainly hadn’t noticed him on her first sweep of the place. Still, she knew who he was. Or at least, she knew his name. The Allen kid—Barry—, she thought to herself.

She thought she might have had a class with him once, freshman year, although she honestly wasn’t entirely sure. He had a habit of that—of trying to make himself invisible, of fading into the background, of keeping to himself—she’d noticed it just from watching him whenever he was in here. He was a regular too, in fact probably the most frequent and late-night visitor of them all, and yet Iris still hadn’t quite figured him out.

He was cute, she mused, as she watched him with his face buried in the book he was reading, his glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. He didn’t usually smile back when Iris smiled at him, when he’d drop off the books he’d borrowed at the end of the day or when he’d request to take one out, which was usually Iris’s tell-tale way of sorting out the regulars she liked, and the ones she didn’t. But his case was a little different.

She supposed that for him, it wasn’t really because he was trying to be unfriendly, but probably more due to the fact that whenever she smiled at him, he’d blush and look down at his feet and nearly trip over nothing as he’d walk away, only to forget that he hadn’t yet picked up the book he’d asked for or was still carrying the one he meant to drop off and have to turn right back around. She had to admit, it was pretty adorable. Dorky, but adorable.

Suddenly he looked up, as though he could feel someone’s eyes on him, and caught her gaze. She gave him a small smile and a little wave, a little embarrassed but overall unapologetic at being caught in the act, and he ducked his head down again, so fast his glasses slipped right off of his nose. Iris covered her mouth to stifle her giggling—even from so far away she could tell he was red as he scrambled to pick them up from the ground.

“Hey, Iris,” Linda greeted her as she finally reached her. “I’ll round up everything from the stragglers. You don’t have to stay.”

Iris tore her eyes away from the Allen kid and considered this for a moment, a strange and sudden urge hitting her, along with a spark of confidence.

“Nah, it’s fine—I’ll close up tonight, okay?”

Linda eyed her curiously but didn’t complain. “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, then!” She snatched up her bag from behind the counter and waved goodbye.

Iris waited until Linda was well out the door, and until just two minutes to midnight, to start making her rounds. She deliberately left Allen, still nestled away in the corner and completely unaware of what was going on around him, for last. She collected books and documentaries and the like—the rule was that while the first floor of the library was technically open 24 hours a day for anyone looking for a place to study and focus, everything owned by the library and all the materials being borrowed had to be returned by midnight. That’s when her shift ended, and whoever was left in the library was, for the most part, left to their own devices. Some stayed, some didn’t.

And then when everyone else was taken care of, she approached him, clearing her throat loudly. He was so absorbed in his reading that he didn’t seem to hear her at first, so she got a little closer before trying again.

“Uh, hello. Excuse me. Hey,  _excuse me._ ”

He jumped and nearly dropped his book when he finally looked up to see her standing there before him, and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t hear you, I’m really—”

“Sorry, I know,” Iris laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just making rounds, before we close up—do you have anything that belongs to the library?”

“Yeah,” he waved the book in his hand around. “But is there any way I could, I don’t know, reserve this one for tomorrow? Like, put it off to the side so that it’ll already be there when I come in?”

“Of course. Just hand it to me and I’ll set it aside for you behind the counter, in our back room.” She held out her hand expectantly, urging him to hand it over. And then nearly had a heart attack at what he did next.

“ _What_  do you think you’re doing?” 

He froze, his hand on the page, just as he was folding the corner over and smoothing it down to mark his spot. “I, uh…I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” Iris huffed with narrowed eyes, snatching the book from him. “Dog-earing pages, honestly. That’s library property you’re messing with, mister. You  _need_ to get yourself a proper bookmark.”

She was only half-kidding—she took the treatment of her books very seriously—but she also couldn’t help messing with him. It felt weirdly normal to tease him, like even though she didn’t really know him he already felt like a friend, like it just felt right. Natural. Besides, red was a good color on him, she thought, amused, as she watched him blush again.

“Oh, uh, sorry about that…” he shrugged and grinned sheepishly at her, and she noted that it was probably the first time she had truly seen him smile. She almost felt offended that he’d been holding out on her so long—it was such a nice one. 

She could have just left it at that, just taken the book and left, but something compelled her to stay. With another wave of confidence she plopped down in the seat next to him, suppressing a grin at his startled expression. She turned the book over in her hands to read the title, raising an eyebrow in question as she did.

 _“The Science Behind Time Travel—A Look into the Future”_ she read aloud, and turned to look at him curiously. “Interesting choice. Is this for a class or something…?”

“Oh, uh, no,” he stammered. “No, this is just…reading for fun, I guess. And…educational purposes.”

Iris hefted the heavy book in her hand and scoffed. “This is reading for fun? Seriously? This thing is huge—how do you even have the time?”

He smiled to himself, amused, almost like he knew something she didn’t, like he was in on some sort of secret. “I’m a fast reader, I guess.”

“Hmm. Alright, well, I’m interested, Barry—” he didn’t ask how she knew his name—it was a small campus, everyone knew everyone, even if they didn’t actually  _know_ them. Especially someone as whispered about as Barry Allen, who did his best to go unnoticed but who couldn’t really escape all the rumors about his family, about what had happened. “—why are you so into this stuff? I’m curious. I’ve seen some of the other books you’ve taken out before, all stuff about the impossible. And science. Which seems a weird combination to me, but still. I’m interested.”

It felt tacky to say  _‘I’m interested in you’_ , even though that was what she really meant. He was a puzzle. Iris loved puzzles, and mysteries, and she was determined to figure him out. Plus, he  _was_  cute, so that didn’t hurt either. She looked at him expectantly, genuinely interested in his answer.

“You’ll make fun of me.”

“No, I won’t. Promise,” she said, and she meant it. 

“Okay…” he sucked in a deep breath, and then started to explain. And then continued to explain. And explain, and explain.

Which is how she spent a large portion of her night learning about a lot things she’d probably never need to know about, science she didn’t really understand, and in the company of a hyper-enthusiastic Barry Allen. 

She knew beforehand that he must have been passionate about the subject, but she hadn’t realized he was _that_  passionate. If anything, though, it was endearing. She could watch him rant, the way his eyes lit up and the exaggerated gestures he made and the smile that never left his face, all day. But at some point, he stopped himself, turning red again in embarrassment.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes. I must be boring you to death.”

“Not at all,” Iris said truthfully, giving him a reassuring smile. “I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I might not have followed everything you were saying, but it sounded interesting enough.”

He let out a breath of relief, and smiled nervously at her. “So, what about you? It’s Iris, right? I only know that because you work here and—I’m not trying to be creepy, I promise, it’s just—”

“Relax,” she laughed. “Yeah, it’s Iris. And if you’re creepy for knowing that, then so am I, considering I knew your name too.”

“Oh, right,” he laughed. “I forgot. Well…Iris, what kind of stuff are you interested in? You let me ramble on all that time about me, but I still don’t know anything about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” she grinned, and launched right in. Barry wasn’t the only one who could get a bit over-excited. Iris was probably equally as passionate, just about different things. Her journalism classes, her work for the school newspaper, the slam poetry club she ran and the competitions she did on the side. It was refreshing to talk so unabashedly about the things she loved and know that he wasn’t judging her.

They talked for a long time, going back and forth like good friends. It was almost eerie how much it felt like she already knew him, but if it meant that they were friends now, that she was one step closer to figuring it out, she was more than happy to accept it. Finally, she admitted to herself that it was probably time to leave—she at least wanted to get a few hours of sleep in before her morning class—and they parted ways.

He was back the next night, as usual, but this time when he approached the front desk to ask for his book, there was a noticeable change from his usual self-conscious mumbling and awkward shuffle. For one, he actually met her gaze, and when she smiled at him he didn’t look away. He still blushed, sure, but he smiled happily back with a familiar-feeling  _‘Hi, Iris.’_ She liked the way he said her name.

As she fetched the book he had on reserve from the night before, an idea suddenly struck her. She paused in the back room to scour the shelves until she found what she was looking for. She ripped off a pink post-it note from the stack, smirking to herself, and took the pen from behind her ear, twirling it in her fingers before jotting something down. She read it over, scrunched up her nose in distaste, and wrote another. And another. And another.

It took her at least five tries before she deemed the note worthy, crumpling up her last failed attempt in her palm (she had decided it was probably better off to start with a smiley face instead of a heart, and then she’d decided that maybe she’d try her luck with a winky face, and then she’d changed her mind _again_ and decided that was probably too much…or was it? She’d gone back and forth between the two for a while before finally making up her mind—and in the end smiley face it was.)

She opened the book up to the page he had dog-eared, and stuck the note in, reading it over one last time before smiling to herself.

_‘Wanna meet up for coffee sometime? :)’_

“Here you go,” she said, walking back to the desk and handing the book to him. “By the way,” she added before he could walk away, “I left something in there for you. You can even use it a bookmark, from now on, so I better not see you dog-earing any more pages.”

“Yes ma’am,” he laughed, before making his way over to his usual spot in the corner of the room.

Iris felt her heart pounding in her chest, wondering if she was crossing a line, if she was acting too soon. She resolutely kept her gaze away from Barry’s corner, refused to let herself look at him during her usual sweeps of the place throughout the night, too nervous of what his reaction would be.

And then when it came time to collect everything as usual, she purposefully left him for last again—although she had a feeling he was hovering around, waiting for her anyway.

“Hi,” she said, announcing her presence. She plopped down next to him again, trying to act casual. As though she wasn’t sort of freaking out. 

“Hi,” he said with a wide smile, looking almost as excited as he had the night before. And yet, he didn’t bring up the note. Iris wasn’t about to do it herself—she’d already made that leap—so instead they talked again, their conversation feeling just as comfortable as the night before. Aside from the fact that he still hadn’t given her an answer, and it was still hanging agonizingly over her head.

This time, when she made to leave, it was with a bit of frustration, and confusion, and hurt. She wondered why he hadn’t even at least  _mentioned_  it—but then his hand caught her arm, and she paused.

“Wait—I have something for you.”

“A book?” Iris asked, a little thrown off, as he handed her a tattered, worn-down looking thing. 

He nodded. “I, uh—well, there were some passages in there I thought you might like. You know, you were talking about how much you liked free-verse and stuff, so I figured I’d show you some other good ones—my favorites.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a poetry kind of guy,” Iris mused thoughtfully, flipping through the book and forcing herself not to be too obvious in her excitement when a flash of pink caught her eye. “I thought you were all into science and logic and all that jazz.”

He grinned at her. “Hey, just because I like science doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the arts. Besides, I read books about the physics of time travel and mysterious, unexplained events—clearly I’m not all about logic.”

“Fair enough,” Iris nodded, taking the book from him and smiling at the little pink post-it peeking out from between the pages. It took all her will-power not to take it out and read it right there. She surprised him with a quick hug before picking up her bag and flashing him a smile, pleased to see that even though he was getting more comfortable around her, it still left him looking frazzled.

“Thanks for this. I’ll see you later, Barry!”

“Yeah…” he sighed happily, “yeah, see you later.”

She forced herself to wait until she was settled back in her dorm to take the note out, careful not to lose the page. She let out a burst of laughter as she read it, at the fact that she’d let herself get so worked up over it. Over one freaking word.

_‘Sure :)’_

Beneath the word were the clear remnants of things he had written and erased and rewritten and then erased again, all in handwriting even messier than hers. She could make out the faint imprint of  _‘I’d love to!’_ and  _‘Sounds great.’_ and  _‘Definitely!! :)’_  and then all the exclamation points that had been added and erased, added and erased. She laughed to herself, a weight lifting from her chest, her spirits soaring. Clearly she wasn’t the only one worried about seeming over-eager. She wondered just how long it had taken Barry to arrive at that one simple word.

It went on like that for a while—the two of them exchanging books, recommending things to each other, and along with them the notes. Pink-post it notes, always—for some reason the color just stuck. All with varying little messages to each other, sometimes things they were too nervous to say out loud, sometimes just one-worded little messages.

She was surprised at herself, surprised at how much she liked Barry. It must have been a whole damn lot, she mused, if she was willing to read books about science for him. Somewhere down the line Iris’s coffee proposition had gotten lost—but they talked pretty frequently after closing hours, anyway, so it wasn’t such a huge deal. Except that she wished she could see him outside of the library, too. Somehow it would make it all feel more…real.

“I can’t believe you’ve never read  _Atonement_. Every high school senior English class has read  _Atonement_!” Iris exclaimed one day as they were talking.

“Well, I guess mine didn’t,” Barry shrugged, holding his hands up innocently.

“Hmph. Lucky for you, I’m pretty sure we have a copy here somewhere. I’ll give it to you before you leave—and you  _have_  to read it. Trust me, you’ll love it—it’s one of my favorites.”

She figured no one would notice if one book was missing from the library that night, if she lent it out for him to take with him. She was breaking the rules, sure…but was for a worthy cause. She stuck her note on the cover this time— _Enjoy, nerd_ —and pushed it into his hands before letting him leave.

“I finished,” he gestured to the book in his hand when she approached him the next day. For the most part, Iris had gotten used to his bizarrely fast reading abilities, but it still threw her off sometimes. Then again, it had only taken her two days to finish when she’d first read it—she hadn’t been able to put it down—so maybe it wasn’t all that surprising after all.

“So, did you love it, or did you love it?”

Barry glared at her and handed the book back over as if it had burned him.

“I hated it.”

Iris blinked, taken aback. “What? Why? It’s so beautifully written!”

“Well, yeah, it’s well-written,” he conceded, “but Robbie and Cecilia die! They don’t get to see each other again, they don’t end up together like they’re supposed to…and the worst part is that it leads you to believe that they do at first but they don’t  _actually_ do and then it just…it’s all wrong! They’re whole lives get torn apart!”

He waved his arms around passionately as he explained—Barry had a habit of talking with his hands—and his voice got steadily louder as he ranted.

“Barry, calm down, and keep your voice down,” Iris shushed. It was earlier than their usual talks, and there were still some other stragglers in the library, eyeing them disapprovingly. “That’s the whole point, you know? Star-crossed lovers and all. It’s such a great tragedy.”

Barry pouted, unimpressed. “I don’t like tragedies. I don’t like it when there’s no happy ending. Real life already sucks enough, you know?”

Iris opened her mouth to argue, but then she caught the look on his face, eyes fixed on the ground, his expression genuinely upset. And then it hit her. She didn’t know the details, exactly, she still hadn’t asked, but she’d heard stories. Vague stories, gossip about something that had happened to his family a long time ago. From the whispers she heard whenever his name was brought up, it must have been a really, really bad thing. Remembering it now, she figured It was probably why he kept so much to himself in the first place. She didn’t want to pry, but she thought she understood why he might be so against tragedies, having to deal with such a big one firsthand.

“Yeah, I get you. The whole escapism part of it all. That makes sense,” she allowed, laying her hand over top his. He smiled gratefully at her, not bothering to ask how she knew, or what she knew—just grateful that she did. As she glanced at the time on her phone and resolved that she needed to be leaving again soon, another thought wormed its way into her mind and stuck there.

“Speaking of happy endings!” she chirped, pulling out a pen and a little pink post-it notepad from her bag and scribbling something on it. She ripped it off with gusto and stuck it to his chest, smoothing it down and letting her hand linger there just a little longer than necessary. He blinked at her in surprise before peeling it off and bringing it up to his face, squinting to read her messy handwriting. She brought a hand up to her mouth to cover her smile, determined not to show it until she watched him break out into a grin of his own. She wanted to be sure.

_‘609-845-5555—Still up for that coffee? ;)’_

“Call me tomorrow,” she said, laughing at his delighted expression and his goofy smile as she got up to leave. “And maybe we can have our own.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://bisexualiriswest.tumblr.com/), as most of these prompt fills are.


End file.
